


Lash Me

by IceFemme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Blow Jobs, Bottom Castiel, Come Shot, Dirty Talk, Eye Contact, Forced, Hand Jobs, Kneeling, M/M, Military Training, Military Uniforms, Nipple Play, Rape/Non-con Elements, Riding Crops, Rough Sex, Stripping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:38:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceFemme/pseuds/IceFemme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://startrebek.tumblr.com/">startrebek</a> sent <a href="http://garama.tumblr.com/post/21599199452/if-i-say-that-this-is-wip-ill-probably-never">this photo</a> </p><p>Dean is the commander of a correctional facility for those sentenced. It's a shithole and the last place Castiel wants to find himself after standing up for his late sister's innocence. Dean's not going to make it easy on him, though, why would he when Cas' got such perfect lips for sucking cock?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lash Me

**Author's Note:**

> yeah this started getting pretty long so i just posted it on here ಠ◡ಠ thank you for your patience startrebek _sighs_ finally got off my ass and wrote this SORRY
> 
>  
> 
> **there is a sort of forced part... i cant really decide so beware**

“Novak, this is a correctional facility, not summer camp. There’s no time for you to take forty five minutes getting ready before boot camp, boy.”

Novak, Castiel’s his first name, glares from his position at the end of the line of men who are already dressed and looking like they want to beat his (mighty fine) ass for making them all wait.

He mumbles something and the commander walks up to him, gets in his personal space and grinds out, “What’s that?” He is smirking, like he knows he’s humiliating Castiel and he really doesn’t give a flying fuck about it. If anything, he’s going to beat off to this exchange later. Castiel wouldn’t put it past the prick.

Despite his harsh and brashness, the commander is a pretty man, much to Castiel’s misfortune. He’s got these big sparkly green eyes and ashy brown hair; when Castiel meets eyes with him—the commander is just about three inches taller than him—he glances down and looks at the perfectly shaped naturally red lips the man has. Castiel has a hard time believing he was gay before he met this man. Would never admit it to a soul, though.

“I asked you a question,” the taller man repeats. He’s fucking enjoying this.

“I woke up late,” Castiel says this time not mumbling. His voice is a little raspy and he wants to clear it but he clenches his jaw instead.

The commander—Commander Winchester is his actual title—scoffs and takes one step back. “That’s funny, I believe all alarms went off at five fifty—I’m not wrong, am I, Brady?” he asks the blond man besides Castiel with a sort of confusion to his tone.

“No, Sir,” Brady responds quickly, his eyes set forward. Although he and every other man in this line are totally annoyed of Castiel and probably about ready to rape him in the shower stall, they don’t dare glance over at him in fear of Winchester’s wrath.

The commander looks back at Castiel and he has this sort of smug smile. He dusts off invisible specks of dirt off of Castiel’s uniformed shoulder, and straigtens his back.

“Possibly if you could keep your legs closed for about five minutes, we would be having less issues with your tardiness,” he suggests.

Castiel’s face becomes tomato-red with embarrassment and anger. Some of the men around them gasp in shock at Commander Winchester’s low blow. Still refusing to look his way, they chuckle amongst one another, sharing the commander’s exasperation of Castiel’s punctuality.

The dark haired man in question keeps his trap shut, though, and waits for his commander to say something else cruel or maybe get mad or something.

He’s fucking smirking again. Goddamn him.

“I would like you to report to my quarters after we’ve finished with this afternoon’s routine,” he pauses and licks his slips, “and keep your pants above the crack as to not tempt any others,” Winchester continues, that same cocky grin gracing his lips.

Castiel’s eyes are slits as he glowers at his commander. “Yes, Sir,” he absolutely seethes.

The brunette man looks over at Castiel and shows him that grin, cocking an eyebrow this time. He looks like he can’t be any older than twenty-seven—just hardly older than Castiel. His youth doesn’t matter—Castiel absolutely _hates_ him.

And then proceeds the routine that Lucifer created himself. Not Lucifer the guy that is legitimately named that who attends the correctional facility, but fucking _Satan._ In fact, looking around, Castiel notices that Luci’s in line also.

Castiel is utterly worn out by noon. He skips lunch again; a tall African American man grabs him by his slim waist and pulls him into the bathroom. He holds a hand over Cas’ mouth and bends him over the sink. It’s filthy and there’s dirt and soap scum coating the entire area—Castiel feels revolted. The dark haired man’s head rams into the scratched mirror a few times as—correct him if he’s wrong—Gordon Walker fucks into his hole, just slightly loose from earlier. It hurts— _damn_ it hurts, but Castiel somehow gets off on that. He cums into his required uniform pants after just five minutes.

When he’s done, Walker pulls out, his jizz seeping out of Castiel’s abused hole and knots his fingers into Castiel’s semi wavy hair. He leans in close, pressing his hot cock to Castiel’s thin tee clad back and grinds out, “Tell anyone and I fucking thumb your eyes out of your skull.”

It’s not the worst Castiel has ever heard but it still hurts—along with his aching forehead for getting pressed so roughly to the mirror.

He reports back to the barracks where they’re supposed to meet but an officer notifies Castiel that Commander Winchester is waiting for him in his quarters. Castiel doesn’t exactly know what that means but he jogs over in a hurry, unable to clean the uncomfortable mess in his trousers. He’s going to get slammed for that, he supposes.

“Novak!”

Castiel turns around in hurry and gasps.

“Commander—”

Commander Winchester growls at the officer that interrupts the brunette man’s pacing and the man backs down. Castiel watches as the younger looking man backs off completely and heads in the other direction. It’s sort of awe-inspiring and the dark haired man watches as a snarling Winchester walks right up to him and grabs him by his collar.

“You’re late,” he declares and a pauses. “And you smell like sex.” He lets go of Castiel and pushes him away. “Should have fucking known the little whore can’t control herself around a bunch of horny men.”

“Shut—shut the fuck up!” Castiel cried. He was beyond angry—angry like he was the night he snapped at his sister’s funeral and he rendered a man unconscious when he was talking horribly about Anna’s sex history.

It was the event that forced him to end up in this place. “Correctional facility”.

“I don’t have time for this,” the older man says and nods to the front of the building. It’s an apartment complex really—it must be where men like him are housed. They have to be on campus, after all. Castiel gets led up a couple flights of stairs and he pretends like the steps aren’t winding him.

There’s one more flight of stairs before the brunette man pushes Castiel against the wall at the landing before the next door.

Castiel gasps out a breath and opens his mouth for air but the older man clasps a hand down on his neck to cut off his air supply.

“Be quiet, Castiel,” he orders.

Castiel looks at him with horrified eyes. He tries to scream into the other male’s palm but he keeps him in place.

The commander grips Castiel’s wrists in a death grip, holding him tight and bringing it down by his side, and then right on his crotch. He smirks, and Castiel blushes crimson.

“Feel how hard I am?” he asks and the dark haired man quiets down. “What? You’re just giving up? I guess you’re used to this, then,” he teases.

He lets go of Castiel and the younger man growls as he’s pushed against the concrete wall, the back of his head slamming against it.

“Follow me,” Winchester orders.

Castiel does. Not exactly sure why, though, but something about this man makes Castiel trust him. Well, despite the fact that he’s a total and utter asshole sadist, Castiel does trust him.

On the outside of his door, it reads _Winchester, Dean_.

The door opens and Castiel’s eyes are met with a spotless flat. The younger man expects to see some sort of décor but there’s nothing. Queen sized bed, black sheets, white wall paint.

It reminds him of his barracks. It makes sense.

“Get on your knees,” Dean orders.

Castiel doesn’t know exactly why but he pads a little further in and kneels. Dean orders his shirt off next and he does exactly as told.

Dean stays in his clothes the entire time and walks in a circle around the man kneeling.

A quick lash comes to Castiel’s shoulder and he shouts in surprise.

Dean is now holding a riding crop. It suits him, the whole uniform and everything. Castiel becomes hard way too fast.

“This,” Dean orders, pushing his hips out. Castiel’s eyes immediately zone in on Dean’s protruding crotch and the shiny metal zipper that sticks out almost purposefully. Castiel reaches up and pulls it down slowly, looking up at Dean with his electric blue eyes. The dark haired man really wants to make this agonizing for him but Dean spanks Cas on the ass with the riding crop again and it stings.

Castiel expertly pulls Dean out of his tight uniform pants and begins to stroke him. Dean doesn’t have to say it to make apparent what he wants. Castiel continues the eye contact as he sucks the cock into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks and stroking Dean’s balls at the same time. The older man throws his head back with a groan, knotting his fingers into Cas’ hair.

Dean yanks him against his crotch, pulling him in further. Castiel does it all without a word being barked at him. To Dean, this is surprising, but then again nothing too far out there. He _did_ smell sex on him. He knows that Castiel’s taken it up the ass at least twice today. He’s not as innocent as he appears, or at least those pretty blue eyes.

Dean sucks on his lower lip and growls. “Castiel,” he orders. Castiel lets Dean’s cock fall out of his mouth with his tongue pressing against Dean’s head. Precum steadily leaks out and Castiel pretends like he doesn’t notice. “Get on the fucking bed.”

The man gets up off his knees and walks lazily over to the bed. The fuck takes his fucking time, shimmying out of his dirty uniform pants before flopping on the bed.

He looks over his shoulder at Dean and then his cock hanging out of the dark green pants.

“Hope I’m tight enough,” Castiel scoffs, pushing his ass up into the air. Dean tosses the riding crop somewhere in the room and clamps a hand down on Cas’ ass.

“The only words you will be uttering are my name and more,” Dean says with a smirk. “So shut up and open your legs, fuckboy.”

Castiel does as told; submitting so easily that it brings a smile onto the older man’s face. Dean smirks as he lines himself up with Castiel’s slightly loose hole. When Dean pushes in he realizes how wrong he was.

Castiel’s got a tight wet channel and he almost bottoms out in that single thrust.

“Jesus fuck,” Dean gasps. He starts pounding right away, grinding his teeth together with every beautiful gasp that came from Castiel’s lips. His hand reaches under Castiel and tweaks his nipple, eliciting even more delicious groans. “You sensitive there, darling?” he teases.

The younger man growls and lowers his hips so it’s harder for Dean to fuck into him.

“Lift your fucking ass up!” Dean orders, gripping into Castiel’s fleshy thighs and yanked up. Castiel fought against him but Dean placed a hand on his stomach and forced him upwards. The brunette man could swear he heard Cas fucking giggle.

“Cum inside me,” Castiel breathes, arching his back more. “I’m going to fucking cum.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean asks, thrusting hard at once and causing Castiel to cry out. “I wanna see.”

He pulls out and Castiel actually whines at the loss of warmth and fullness. Dean’s wide palm flattens over his hip and turns him on his back only to lift his leg so that Dean has access once again and can pound in.

Castiel moans like a bitch in heat, throwing his arms above his head and heaving his chest off the blankets so that Dean can really hit that spot inside of him.

“Fuck!” Castiel cries. Dean reaches forward quickly and holds both wrists exactly where they are above Cas’ head so that he can’t touch himself. Castiel’s eyes go wild and Dean helps him out by rutting into that one special spot over and over again. The dark haired man’s eyes go wild and a moan bubbles out of his throat as his cock twitches and he comes on his chest. It shoots across the expanse of his flat chest and lands on his sweaty neck and pectoral.

Dean grinds his teeth almost painfully now. He’s going to cum. Going to cum. Fuck— _coming—fuck_!

He comes hard inside of Castiel, growling in an animalistic fashion. Castiel’s voice was so high in comparison.

As they both come down from their highs, they meet eyes and slowly, like a transformation they lean in together and their lips touch. It's sweet, really, and Castiel leans up into the kiss.

"So are you going to spank me more or...?" Castiel asks. Dean smirks. They both eye the riding crop on the hardwood floor.

Dean can't think of a more intelligent response than, "Okay."

**Author's Note:**

> there are more ficlets on my [tumblr.](http://www.ice-koroleva.tumblr.com/tagged/ficlet) (updated ficlets!) headcanons always welcome! because of my most recent 420 kiriban, i'm doing a fic giveaway to my 440th, 460th, 480th, and 500th follower! thank you all so much for your support! 
> 
> also! smut headcanon [sideblog](http://dean-senpai.tumblr.com/)


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